


Love Like The Ocean

by KaylaSecura, RumbelleEvents



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, FINISH THIS 2018, Finish this, GROUP GREEN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 00:31:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16029269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaylaSecura/pseuds/KaylaSecura, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RumbelleEvents/pseuds/RumbelleEvents
Summary: Take a glimpse into Rumple and Belle’s everyday life, and fall in love with their story all over again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ALL FICS RATED M FOR SAFETY.
> 
> Chapter writer: @snake-hyena-bear-lion  
> PROMPT: KISS

Belle had the magazine laid out face down, fanned out like she would never lay a book. She’d been smiling furtively, stealing glances over the edge of the magazine at him, and with her now gone from the room he was overcome with an urge to discover what had caused her to smirk so. His clever fingers plucked the magazine from the table and flipped it over. It was one of those idiotic quizzes that he’d often heard the red-hooded wolf girl spouting on about. He was surprised his Belle would waste her time with such trash, but he supposed it was one of those things friends did to bond with one another.

His eyes skimmed the page - only to sate his curiosity - and caught on one particular line about halfway down.

_Describe your favorite kiss._

Such an inane question. Oh, he’d experienced far more than his fair share of kisses in the centuries he’d been alive - every type encompassing every range of emotion - and if he closed his eyes he could recall the feeling of each one as easily as recalling his own name.

He remembered kisses as cold and lonely as the peak on which his castle stood, stilted and forced. His wife had never been particularly affectionate, and ever since he’d come back from the war with a broken ankle - his coward’s brand - she could barely look at him, much less kiss him. He’d only tried a couple of times after his return, but found his wife distant and unwilling.

He remembered kisses as hot and explosive as The Demon Fields of Iosas. It was like this with Cora. At the time he’d mistaken it for love, because he hadn’t known better. She’d shown him a shadow of what love could be, twisted it between them until it frayed and snapped. Her betrayal had cut him deep, but it was a wound that had healed over thicker. Like a blanket, the scar covered him head to toe so that no one could ever hurt him again. Love was a weakness he could not afford.

And then  _she_  had come. He had bargained for a caretaker and received something else entirely. She had carefully dismantled his walls, piece by piece, and rebuilt his soul. He hadn’t even realized it until she’d kissed him, until she’d freed his heart from the prison of his own making. But as always, the darkness within him couldn’t abide any enchantment that wasn’t its own, and there was no doubt that Belle had enchanted him. And so he had destroyed it, demolished any glimmer of hope and light and left only pain and rage. She had bore the brunt of it, and before he could awaken from his angry haze, she was gone.

For thirty years he lived without her, his grief at the news of her demise solidifying his truculence. Her light had been snuffed out, and with it any hope of his salvation. He’d spent most of that time blissfully unaware, though since the Savior’s arrival in Storybrooke he’d spent every moment alone with her memory. Sharp as it was, he could perfectly recall the way her mouth quirked when she playfully teased him - the only creature in all the realms brave enough to do so. He could remember the way her blue eyes lit up when she discovered something wondrous or the knowing way she would tilt her head  _just so_  when she delved deeper into his heart than he had believed her capable.

It had been torture that first day, oh so many months ago, when he’d met Emma and the fog of his curse memories had lifted. He’d managed to keep up his carefully crafted facade until he made it home, crumpling under the weight of three centuries of memories and guilt. He’d wept for her then, finally capable of expressing the full measure of his grief without the oppressive heaviness of the Dark One’s curse weighing on his soul.

And then, in a miracle he knew he would never deserve, she’d come back to him. Disheveled, confused, and hesitant...but still  _Belle_. That first kiss in the woods was like being reborn. Her soft sigh against his lips had breathed life into him, and he had wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let go.

There had been many kisses since then; kisses of affection, lust, desperation, relief and every emotion in between. Each one bestowed by his beauty felt like the first, and he couldn’t keep the smile from his lips as he thought about how freely she gave them. He could not possibly pick a favorite, he decided. Each one was special, each one a gift, and he had vowed to spend the rest of his life striving to be deserving of them.

Footsteps on the stairs startled him, and he tossed the magazine back onto the table. He hoped she hadn’t been paying attention when she’d left earlier, but he knew he’d not be that lucky. Belle’s memory was as sharp as his own, and he had no doubt she’d rib him about it soon.

“Someone wanted to say goodnight.”

He turned with a wide smile, taking in the sight of his wife coming down with their daughter on her hip. The girl had recently celebrated her first birthday, and every day he was amazed by the way things had turned out. That Belle had promised to spend her life with him was more than he’d ever dared to hope, but the day she’d told him about their miracle he had wept from the joy of it.

“Come here, princess,” he stood and reached for the infant, her dark hair combed from her bath and her body covered neck to toe in a soft pink onesie gifted from the Charmings. She cooed and reached for him, her fingers grasping lightly around his nose as he transferred her weight from Belle’s hip to his own. “All washed and ready for bed, hmm,” he hummed and kissed her head softly. “I love you, princess.”

Roslyn was all smiles, and he marveled once again at how perfect she was. He’d been afraid that the curse he still carried - though muted in this world - would affect her somehow, and Belle had put up with his frantic worry up to the moment of birth. But perfect she’d been, and perfect she remained. The only concession her genetics made to his darker heritage was the gold flecks in her warm brown eyes. She had likewise inherited his slender fingers and fine hair, though its color she got from her mother along with her smile.

Belle laid her hand on the baby’s back lightly. “Alright, Little Rose, say goodnight to Papa.”

Roslyn tapped his nose with her fingers again. “Papa!”

“That’s right, princess.” He kissed her again. “Papa loves you.”

“Give him a kiss.”

He presented his cheek dutifully, and his daughter leaned forward to press her mouth against it in a sloppy imitation of a kiss. He could feel the moisture she left there but didn’t wipe it away as Belle took their daughter from his arms. He watched them go, Roslyn babbling happily as Belle continued their goodnight ritual.

He sat back down, his heart both fuller and lighter for his part in it. His eyes fell to the magazine still lying precariously on the edge of the table. He fixed it quickly, turning it a bit so that it appeared to be in the exact place Belle had left it. As he did, he remembered the question that had first captured his attention and made his decision.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter writer: @avatoh
> 
> PROMPT: WINTER

He waited for Belle to come back downstairs with the topic of kisses that was posed by her trashy magazine still on his mind:

_Describe your favorite kiss._

Kisses could be such beautiful things. Their magic could be incredibly strong, strong enough to break even the nastiest of curses as proven time-and-time again by the citizens in the small town of Storybrooke. Kisses were marvellous. He knew the power of true love’s kiss as well as anyone, he’d experienced it first hand with Belle, the love of his life. Kisses held power. Romantic kisses could move mountains and be oh-so special but there were also every-day kisses that were equally as special in their own little way. His thumb brushed against his own lower lip as he gave the subject some more deep thought. What he and Belle had, well, it was remarkable. Could there be anything or anyone who could come close to sharing what they had together? It seemed not. When he kissed Belle, the world stopped turning and all he felt inside himself was peace and love

After giving his absolute favorite kiss some thought, he narrowed the kiss down to roughly five moments: all special and significant to him. Then, out of those five, he decided on what was really The Favorite Kiss. In fact, he knew for certain what it was after his lengthy internal deliberation. There was a kiss that actually had immediately stood out to him as soon as he had read the question in the magazine. Others popped into his mind as he gave the question some more thought, of course; but in the end, his first gut reaction thought won over them all. A favorite kiss wasn’t exactly something that he hadn’t given a lot of thought to before now. At least today, he now knew what it was.

Belle was upstairs all the while he was having his own private revelation. She was still there and he had some time, so he decided to make the two of them some hot cocoa from scratch while he waited for her. It had been awhile since the two of them had enjoyed a warm beverage while they spent some alone time together at night.

Belle usually read their daughter an entire picture book before bed to help her fall asleep, so he had the time to cook. Besides, making hot cocoa in a saucepan while snow was falling from the sky wasn’t the biggest chore in the world. It was fitting. Making it from scratch took a little extra time, but the effort was well worth it. He gathered the ingredients from the cupboard and measured them out to start making it.

After rolling up his sleeves, and a fair amount of stirring, he finished with making the cocoa. It was just how Belle liked it, not overly sweet, but not too bitter. It had a well-rounded taste to it despite all the sugar he had added.

He poured out the beverage into two matching cups and dressed the top of the beverage with a dollop of whipped cream and a light sprinkle of cinnamon. It looked pretty good and he couldn’t wait to drink it with her.

After all of that, Belle was still nowhere to be seen, so he started washing up the dishes as he took a small taste-test sip from his own cup. It was absolutely piping hot, which was good for him; the drink would probably perfect for Belle in about 5 or so minutes. In living together, he discovered the prime window for beverage drinking for his wife would be about 5 to 15 minutes while his was usually 0 to 5.

Belle sometimes would take a little sip of a freshly made drink thinking she could take it and then wince in disappointment when she found it too hot. The sad reality was that Belle usually didn’t take her drinks hot, whether she liked it or not. Often, she would make herself a hot cup of tea or coffee and then get distracted by work later returning to find the beverage tepid and undrinkable. His wife was adorable and knowing little facts like this about Belle made him feel closer to her. Who would have ever thought the Dark One would know the coffee and tea drinking habits of a beautiful princess?

He scrubbed at the dishes some more and began to dry them, glancing up the stairs as if she would come down any moment. Perhaps he should join his two girls for the rest of the bedtime story, he thought. He decided against it. She had to be down any minute now. His eyes darted away from the stairs, back to his reality where his scattered thoughts changed coarse again as his eyes trailed away from the drying dishes back to the magazine left out on the table.

“What are you thinking about?” came Belle’s voice as she approached her husband, startling him from glance at the magazine.

“I was just thinking about you and Rose,” he had answered, truthfully.

“Oh?”

He moved from where he was standing, meeting his wife halfway between the stairs and the kitchen. They kissed as he handed her the steaming cup of cocoa he had made her. Belle picked up her magazine that she had discarded on the table and they sat down together in their living room in front of the fireplace. The snow outside their window was falling down harder now as the sun had completely set. It was nice. Belle opened up her magazine and took a sip of her drink, remarking that it was good. He just stared out the window, thankful for the moment.

“When it’s snowing like this, it always makes me think of when we first brought Rosalyn home. I can’t believe how much she’s grown since then,” he said, warmly. “It seems like just yesterday, not a whole year ago. Do you remember that day?”

“Yes, I remember,” Belle answered with a smile. “It was so cold that day, I could see my breath, we got home and sat in front of the fireplace for hours just looking at her: our precious daughter. She fell asleep in your arms. You didn’t want to wake her.”

“I was so scared,” he nodded, recalling the events of that very first winter evening they had shared together as a complete family. “You both fell asleep and I didn’t want to drop her; didn’t want to wake you, being so tired as you were at the time, so I stayed awake watching over you two.”

Belle laughed softly at the memory. “It was a tiring day. Thank you for letting me sleep.” Her eyes which were previously focused on the magazine now glanced up at her husband briefly as she talked. Their eyes met and she gave him a more mischievous smile than her previous one.

In that moment, he realised her true purpose of laying the magazine down on the table the way she had done so before taking her daughter to bed: she had most likely wanted him to read it. Was there any reason for this? Was it her intention for him to read the article about the kisses? Did she mean to tell him something by this? More importantly, did Belle have a favorite kiss, herself? Was it the same as his?

It was true that the two of them had shared countless kisses but what one was Belle’s absolute favorite? She just had to have a favorite one, of course. He opened his mouth, about to ask her the question on his mind, only closing it seconds later. If he asked her then she most certainly would know that he’d been reading her magazine, although he was pretty sure she had left it there, lying open the way it was so that he would, in fact, read it.

She knew that sometimes he could be curious and her actions before leaving the room were far too suspicious for him not to take a peek of what she was reading. She knew that as well as he did that he would.

Though, he thought, perhaps her smiles from before while she was looking at the magazine didn’t even pertain to the kiss question. He had only just glanced at one of the two visible pages before the question about kisses caught his eye. It was possible that on the other displayed page there was something along the lines of a sex advice column or something else that she had read that made her smile. He wished that he had spent more time looking at the magazine before he put it down.

Now Belle was calmly sipping at her hot cocoa and leafing through the pages of her magazine. She was still smiling at him every now and then. Damn, he loved her smile.

Belle smiling, well, that could mean almost anything positive. It would be hard to know what it really meant in this case. Her smiles, just like their daughter’s, were so pure and they brought so much joy to his heart to see it. He’s had so many fond memories of the three of them all smiling together, having fun. Just the other morning, the three of them had went outside and had their time of their lives playing in the mushy excuse of what could be called snow. Rosie would be thrilled to see what tonight’s snowfall brought.

“How was your day today, my love?” he asked her.

“It was real nice,” she responded, her eyes momentarily stilled on the magazine before she decided to simply close it and save it again for another time. “I’m very grateful the library has heating, but I’m glad to be home. It’s more comfortable here. There’s always this constant chill while I’m away. It feels like I’m never quite warm enough until I’m home with the two of you.”

A lot of the resident’s liked to gather in the warm public space during the cold winter days and Belle was always there to provide them the warmth with her library. In turn, he had mainly been in charge of taking care of Roslyn as of late.

“Our day was great too. She ate all her steamed carrots today.”

“Really!” Belle exclaimed. “All by herself?”

“With a little complaining, yes, she did.”

“I can’t wait to take the next week off,” Belle sighed. “I feel like I’m missing so much.” She scooted closer to her husband and burrowed into her usual place at his side. He wrapped his arm around her, her cold body and his warm body mingling until the two of them shared a regulated temperature.

Belle sighed contently. She put her drink down on a coaster and looked up at him. Oh. She wanted a kiss. He obliged her by reaching his head down to give her one. She smiled as their lips met.

“Hmmm,” she hummed. “Is there more where that came from?” she quipped.

“Always,” he answered. “There’s always more where that came from.”

“Good. Kisses from you are always my favorite,” she beamed. “I can always go for more.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter writer: @pissedoffatouat
> 
> PROMPT: LAPTOP

“Good morning, Belle” Rumple walked into the bedroom just as Belle was done stretching leisurely.

“Good morning,” Belle yawned, accepting her tray of breakfast in bed, “I should really do this for _you_ one day, especially when it's your own birthday today.”

Rumple sat down next to her in bed and put his arm around her shoulders, “and how old am I today,” He asked laughing.

Belle thought his birthdays were important even though he did not. He complained that it only reminded him how ancient he is.

“Oh, stop it,” Belle giggled, and took a bite of her toast with butter and jam, “I just had this conversation with Emma the other day. We both have the same problem with birthday boys who don’t like to celebrate their birthdays. It is a special day after all. so how about we figure out when to start counting so that you guys don’t look ancient?”

“I can start counting from our first kiss, but then you’d be like thirty years older than me,” Rumple teased.

 “Oh, we already celebrate our first kiss anniversary. We need a birthday-like celebration that would be yours alone.”

“Hmmm,” Rumple took a sip of the tea at his bedside.

“So, what are we doing today,” Belle inquired having finished her scrambled egg and Rose has not awakened yet.

“Let’s go to the new indoor park with Rose. I heard they have this really great baby-sized geodesic dome our little climber would love.”

“OK, but what special thing should we do for _your_ special day? would you allow me to invite some friends to Granny’s and have a small party,” Belle asked hopefully while looking in her closet for a nice dress to wear.

“Alright, he said reluctantly, as long as you don’t make it a _birthday_ party,” Rumple smiled, as he collected the finished breakfast and put it back on the tray to take it to the kitchen.

The truth is, that Rumple was secretly excited about meeting Belle’s friends again. He was so socially awkward for so many years, that it was hard for him to admit that he really did enjoy sitting among people. He especially loved watching Belle talking and laughing with her friends. She was such a social butterfly! She had such a beautiful laugh and when she was engrossed in a lively conversation she looked so cute with her eyes alight and her body leaning forward, that he wanted to kiss her right there.

“Mama, Papa” they heard Rose sing from her crib. She seemed to have slept well and be in a good mood this morning.

Rose had a long and eventful day at the park, where she splashed in the sprinklers and climbed on all the new and colorful playground equipment, while her mama and papa watched adoringly, clapping for her every new ability.

“She looks exhausted,” Belle laughed picking her up from the slide and strapping her onto her stroller.

A few hours later, Belle and Rumple were all dressed up for an evening out with friends and family at Granny’s diner. Their trusted baby-sitter was in their house and Rose was sleeping soundly.

“Hey!” Everyone greeted the couple of the night when they entered the diner.

Emma walked over to Belle and hugged her and then, smiling, she shook Rumple’s hand saying, “happy special day to you, Mr Gold. Belle warned us not to call it a birthday.”

“Oh, you talked? Already? When,” Rumple asked in amusement.

“We always find time to talk,” Emma said, and Belle beamed, “we both have the very similar problems with our stubborn husbands.”

“Speaking of your husband, where is he?” Rumple was looking around the diner eagerly.

“He went to pick up Henry. He refused to miss his grandpa’s birthday - ahem, I mean, special day”

Just then, Henry walked into the diner with Neal in tow. Emma opened her arms and greeted her son with a hug and her husband with a lingering kiss.

“Happy birthday, Papa,” Neal teased, “guess what, Henry came up with a solution to our ages.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter writer: @kaylasecura
> 
> PROMPT: BEACH

Belle sat at her desk at the library looking at a blank computer screen. She didn’t seem to be able to concentrate today, at all. These last six months have been more stressful than ever. After Rumple’s party, things seemed to fast-forward way too much. She had missed Rosalyn’s first steps. She missed her next few words. She could now say ‘baby’ and ‘bye, bye.’ The birthday party seemed like a million years ago, but looking back now, she misses the family time and happiness she felt.

Apart from her work at the library, Belle had begun correspondence with a publishing house to have her first novel published. About four months ago, she had sent in a sample chapter. They fell in love with it, and wanted to have it published before August, so that it could go in their fall advertisement. For four long months she has been working overtime to get the novel written.

Finishing up the last chapter, Belle quickly reviews her work.

“Perfect”, she says to herself out loud.

Hitting ‘print’, she e-mails the other copy to her editor. Quickly grapping her coat, she runs out the door in hopes of being able to make it home in time for supper.

**…**

Pulling in to the drive way, Belle turns off her car and stares up at the house. All the lights are off, save her and Rumple’s bedroom.

“Well, so much for supper,” she mumbles, “but at least I’ll be able to talk to Rumple before bed.”

Belle walks in the door and takes of her shoes, trying to be as quiet as possible. The last thing she wanted right now is for Rose to be startled from her sleep. Tiptoeing up the stairs, she pauses at Rose’s door to make sure she was still sound asleep. Hearing nothing, she continues to her room.

She opens the door softly and walks in, immediately swept off her feet by the lovely scene before her. Her husband lies curled up on the bed, Belle’s pillow pressed to his face, as if breathing in her scent.

Slowly walking up to the bed, Belle leans down and presses a kiss to his cheek, making him murmur in his sleep. Getting in the bed beside him, she softly whispers his name.

Slowly, he opens his eyes.

“Belle?”

“Yes, my love,” she says, “it’s me.”

Suddenly, he pulls her into a huge so tight that it takes her breath away.

“I’ve missed you,” he exclaims quietly, as he swiftly kisses her face.

Having missed the feel of his mouth on hers, she deepens the kiss. Belle marvels at how quickly and easily their mood goes from calm to passionate. Even after being married for a few years, and having a beautiful daughter together, their love and passion has not dwindled. As they begin to shift out of their clothes, Belle can’t help but be impatient to, once again, taste the love that bound them together all those years ago.

**…**

Afterwards, they lie in bed together, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. Belle smiles and looks down, remembering she needs to tell him the good news about the book.

“Guess what…”

“What?” Rumple says, smiling.

“I finished the book.”

He stares at her, amazement shown clearly on his face.

“Really? That’s great!”

Belle laughs, quietly. She knew he would be pleased. Now she would finally have time to spend at home. Oh, of course, she knew he was happy for her. After all, being in author has been one of her greatest dreams since she began her love of literature. But, he missed his wife, and their daughter missed her mother. Now, they would finally have some much-needed time as a family.

“We should celebrate,” he suggests with a mischievous grin that reminds her of the first day they met.

“How so?”

“We should do something…go somewhere,” he offers.

That did sound like a good idea. Getting away for a few days, so she didn’t have to focus on work, sounded like heaven. Belle thought of places they could go. Somewhere that didn’t remind them of home or work. Somewhere Rosalyn hadn’t been…

“The beach!” Belle almost shouts.

Rumple silences her with another kiss.

“The beach,” he agrees.

**…**

Belle wakes up to the sound of car horns blaring at each other. Belle sits up and looks out the window, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. Having fallen asleep a couple hours before, she’s curious to know where they are. Her eyes finish becoming adjusted to the light, and she sees it…Miami Beach. This is a dream come true for her. Finally, she is seeing the world.

“Hey, how’d you sleep?” Rumple asks, smiling down at her.

“Like a rock,” she responds as she stretches out her back in the limited car space.

He laughs at her choice of words.

“Well, you woke up just in time,” he says, pointing, “that’s our hotel”

Belle looks up at a grand hotel that rises of the ground by eight stories. One side covered in an expanse of wrought iron balconies, the hotel looked more like a castle.

“Oh, Rumple,” Belle shrieks with delight, waking Rosalyn up where she lay sleeping in the back, “It’s amazing!”

During the preparation for the trip, Rumple had let Belle decide which tasks she wanted to take on. She chose packing, which allowed Rumple to choose the hotel and beach. So, after making all the necessary accommodations with work, they began there long journey to the beach.

“I knew you’d like it,” Rumple says, growing even more confident after her reaction.

After finding a parking space, Rumple gets out and grabs Rose from her car seat. Handing her to Belle, he puts it on himself to grab all the heavy luggage they had brought. At this, Belle swooned. Sometimes, she was surprised with how it seemed she fell more and more in love with him each day. He did so much for her. She was so thankful for him.

Getting all the luggage up to the room, the three all but ran to get their swimsuits on, especially little Rose. She was so excited to see the ocean. She kept smiling and giggling. Belle grabbed up some towels, and the book she was currently reading. They finished getting ready and took her down to the ocean.

Taking a hold of both of her parents’ hands, she was led down to the water. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, before screaming and hobbling to the water.

“Mama! Papa!” Rose yells back to them.

Both Belle and Rumple burst into laughter, as they watch their child begin to discover the world. Rumple looks over at Belle and smiles.

“I love you,” he says, raising his voice so he can be heard over the wind.

“I love you, too.”


End file.
